Before I start this rant let me just clarify one point, I am a drop dead gorgeous hunk of man swimming in a bulky mass of sincerity and delight. I pack a rotund 190 pounds into a sub five foot frame in a manner that defies all the laws of grace and beauty. My elegant shuffle, which usually can only be found in those creatures belonging to the Spheniscidae , family, is in a word- sexy. Gorgeous shanks of bronze grace my oblong skull, framing my face like a god formed from gypsum. Thus, it should come as no surprise that your humble narrator is something of a catch in the land of meter tall mites and craggle toothed sprites.
But, on to my story.
Ok now that the bs is over. I was on the subway today, or Caliugula, as I like to call it. The metro is like the mouth of hell, but smells worse and the people are uglier. In any event, all these Chinese peasants are packed to the brim on their way to pay homage to the most prolific mass murderer and home of one of the most dictatorial regimes today. (hint, Mao is the first and communism the second).
So these peasants are shoving, spitting and cursing, or acting like people from China. In the midst of all this, some Chinese woman, who stood no taller than a stack of nickles, stood to my front and shoved in to me. ‘pushy bitch’ I thought. Then the chick starts easing over and begins to invade my ‘yum yum’ zone.
Don’t get me wrong, I know that buried within my Levi’s is a hulking mass of man-love, but this chick got carried away. In between slamming her paltry nipples, which in size and circumference were equivalent to an electron, she kept banging her hand into my junk. All the while she is playing it off as if to say, ‘what can i do” and then peering at me from beneath those pancake eyelids shielded in spidery long ‘plasti’ eyelashes. The woman is doing her best to unleash the dragon, if you know what I mean.
While this is happening, some Chinese guy is watching, inside seething with envy. He is thinking, ‘Damn it! I am stuck in a shit hole with 30 million excess guys and this foreigner does not even have to work to get a little squeeze. I curse my spaghetti string arms and Kim Jung Il glasses!”
In all reality it was not as good as you might be thinking. I mean I do have standards. The problem is that the woman, who was the lust of the guy beside me, had all the appeal of genital warts. Her head was triangular and the teeth inside her vacuous mouth were few and far between. And those teeth that had managed to liberate themselves from her inflammed gums were mishappen and had the texture of rotting wood. All of these things could have been excused, had she not possessed the distinct odor of cat urine and neurosis. In the end, I endured her TSA pat down and parted company just as happy as I had started my day.
btw that’s me and my posse in the pic. I am the good looking one with a pocket full of love
(pic from jasonfreakinbang.com)
Understanding China, One Blog at a Time 